In Your Time Of Dying
by SavannahBanana94
Summary: It's ironic, really. How Sam's very first word was identical to his very last.  Tag to AHBL. Rated T for lauguage and just to be safe. Second Story ever, here. No beta.


**Hey guys! This is a little tag to AHBL, right after Sam's death. Just Dean's thoughts on everything. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, I know Imma little late to the party here and stories like this have prolly been written a million times, but please give it a chance! And if you like it, let me know! And if you don't, tell me how I can improve! I'm still young here, I don't have that much experience in writing. I reply to every review!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. This makes me sad **

_**Any italics are Deans thoughts.**_

Dean's laugh seemed to echo around him, but it held no amusement. Dean's world was crashing down around him. It sounds cliché, but there is truly no other way to describe it. His mind, body, and soul were screaming at him to FUCKING DO SOMETHING, but all he could do is sit there, unaware of anything that was going on around him. It felt like his body, his senses, were rebelling against him.

All he could see was his baby brother's face as that knife pierced him. The pain was so apparent on his face Dean was sure he could feel it himself. He wished that it had happened like that; Dean wished he could feel the pain. As long as Sammy didn't have to feel it, it's all well and worth it. That's always been his role in life. Take the pain for Sammy.

All he could smell was that awful, tangy stench of blood. Dean is around blood all of the time, it kind of comes with the job. As a result, he wasn't bothered by it at all. But this wasn't just anyone's blood. Dean swears that Sam's blood smells different. It still smells like blood, sure, but it's laced with a slight aroma of death, pain and GUILT. Because this shouldn't have happened. Dean shouldn't have let this happen.

All he could feel was the mud seeping in through the knees of his jeans, and the too-heavy weight of his brother pressing against his chest. Dean found himself wondering when Sammy got so big. Sam had surpassed him in size and height ever since he hit 16, but Dean found it a little contradictory. Dean never thought of Sam being bigger than him, because Sam was always the one who needed his big brother to look out for him. Dean snorted at the thought. _Sorry to tell ya' Sammy boy, but I wouldn't look to your big brother to solve your problems anymore, seeing how all he does is screw everything up._

All Dean could taste were his own tears. There were so many of them, making rivers on his face, that they ran off into his mouth. _I am such a girl._ Dean wished more than anything that his brother would wake up and call him that. But Sammy would never do that, would he? He had such a kind heart that he would simply talk Dean down from whatever meltdown he was currently having. Not that it matters much, because that kind heart is no longer beating.

All Dean could hear was his brother's voice. His brother's voice saying that one word, one syllable, that truly let Dean believe he had his brother back. It's ironic, really. How Sam's very first word was identical to his very last. Dean couldn't help but to think back to those times when Sam was a baby. Dad would spend hours on hours trying to get Sam to say "Dada." He would sit by Sammy's crib and watch his Dad repeating the word to his brother over and over again. Sam would just smile, gurgle, and eventually fall asleep. Until that one day, when Sam finally spoke. John was holding him, desperately trying to get Sammy to call out to him. Sam just looked over at Dean, made a jerky motion toward him, and cried, "De!" John was floored. Never once had he tried to teach him Dean's name. It was just something that came naturally to the younger Winchester. And with that first line Sam spoke, Dean knew that no matter how old they got, no matter where life took them, he would always be there when his little brother called for him.

Dean shuddered when he realized that he, in fact, HAD kept that promise. He was there when Sam called for him for the final time.

Dean suddenly finds himself looking up into Bobby's sympathetic gaze, Dean's chin still resting on Sam's shoulder. The walk back to the car was a blur. Dean vaguely remembers picking Sam up, not allowing his brothers upper body to get soiled on the muddy ground. And he has a slight recognition of flipping the hell out on Bobby, when he dared try to take some of Sam's weight away from Dean. _Sam isn't just some burden to me, Bobby! And even if he is… he's my favorite burden to bear…_

Dean slid into the safety of the car, and stretched his legs out on the seat, with Sam laying directly on top of him. "You know this is pretty gay, Sammy. Look at what a girl you've turned me into. I'm gonna have to kick your ass when you come back, you know… Cause you WILL come back, Sammy… you kinda have to, ya know?" Dean sighed, and leaned his head back to rest against the car window, and let a few more tears escape. He kissed the top of Sam's head gently, something he used to do every night when Sam was a baby.

There are ten thousand things running through Dean's mind right now, and ten thousand things he feels the need to do. Finding a way to get Sam back was at the top of the list, but Dean just can't help but think that he shouldn't have to sign some crazy, deal-with-the-devil contract to get Sam back. He shouldn't be dead in the first place. So yeah, kicking his own ass to oblivion is on that list too. But for now, Dean just curls up in the back of the car, holds his younger brother tighter, and pretends that the chill to Sam's skin was just from the cool night air.

**How awesome was Defending Your Life? This writer chick kicks ass. This is turning out to be an amazing season. :D But any who, there's my second story! I hope you guys liked it! Please review! It'll make my life, I promise! And like I said in my other story, I reply to all reviews! **


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